| |
| WE’VE drunk our fill of pleasure, | |
| Of town-bred ease and mirth; | |
| Our hearts are fain to wander | |
| The utmost ends of earth. | |
| The oft-sung songs ring hollow; | 5 |
| The well-known ways grow stale; | |
| We’re off to lead the vanguard,— | |
| To tread the Foremost Trail! | |
| |
| It’s oh to leave behind us | |
| The Railhead of the Past, | 10 |
| To roam, where none have trodden, | |
| Thro’ hopeful lands and vast! | |
| The fruitless feast is over; | |
| The lamplight’s glare grows pale; | |
| And “Outward ho!”’s the watchword,— | 15 |
| To tread the Foremost Trail! | |
| |
| O some may drive to eastward, | |
| Stem on into the day, | |
| And some steer out to westward, | |
| Where sunset skies grow grey. | 20 |
| It’s “hey! the flowing furrow | |
| And ho! the swelling sail!” | |
| We’re outward bound for action— | |
| To tread the Foremost Trail! | |
| |
